


Overshadowed

by poolsidescientist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Humor, musings of a cigarette smoking man, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 01:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8184241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poolsidescientist/pseuds/poolsidescientist
Summary: The cigarette smoking man tricks Skinner into reading his story, Skinner is not impressed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the X-files, if anything they own me at this point.
> 
> Timeline: Immediately after Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Man.
> 
> Notes: Don't worry, I'll update 'Weirdoes of Beach City'. I had never written about the cigarette smoking man before and I really wanted to.

It was 5:30pm when the desiccated ghoul of a man drifted into Skinner’s office. The man clicked his lighter to light a cigarette right next to a sign that read ‘thank you for not smoking’. The black-lunged bastard had no respect for personal space. “Did you read it?” He inquired, threatening as ever. Pointing to a stack of paper on the corner of the desk.

“Yeah, I read the story. If you want to call it that,” assistant director Skinner grumbled. Both his glasses and the top of his head gleamed menacingly. He had no desire to chase shadows tonight, his wife was making a pot roast. Sharon made the best pot roasts.

“Oh?” The older man took a puff of his cigarette.

“I don’t even know why you wanted me to read it. You said you found it in the trash. Maybe it was there for a reason.”

“What makes you say that?” It was more of an accusation than a question.

“You mean, other than the fact that it’s terrible? Reading it was a waste of my time.” Skinner organised his papers and stuffed them in his briefcase. “It was the second worst thing I’ve read this week.”

“Second worst?” The old geezer looked genuinely hurt by Skinner’s statement.

“If you count Mulder’s reports, then yes. The man went to Oxford, you’d think he’d know how to write better,” Skinner sighed, “he goes on for pages and pages of pointless existential monologues.”

“Does he now?” The smoking man took another drag of his cigarette.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say he wrote this story. Maybe as some kind of wish fulfillment attempt to understand his father. Similar writing style as well.” Skinner packed up his briefcase. Maybe he would pick up a bottle of wine to have with dinner. Sharon would appreciate that.

“If you’re having a problem with agent Mulder’s reports-”

“Agent Mulder is a fine agent. I am not having any problems with agent Mulder or the X-Files division. Have a good night sir.” Skinner got up to exit his office.

“And what am I to do about this? This Jack Colquitt narrative could be the biography of an important and dangerous man?” The smoking man smiled bitterly, holding up the stack of papers.

“Not my problem. Now, if you’ll excuse me I’d like to go home.” Skinner pushed past the old man on the way out, leaving him alone with his thoughts, manuscript, cigarette butts, and pitiful life story. He took one last puff of his cigarette and left amidst a cloud of smoke.


End file.
